


define anxiety

by churb



Category: Pinky and the Brain
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, M/M, and brain's having 300000 gay crises, and this is after they did the thing, basically they did the thing, crisii???, crisises
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-21
Updated: 2014-10-21
Packaged: 2018-02-22 07:50:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2500214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/churb/pseuds/churb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It occurs to you at 3am, four hours after it happens, that you just had sex with your roommate, and this is something you're not too sure how to feel about.</p><p>[[ALSO BEING EDITED FOR QUALITY CONTROL i really need to work on my human aus more jesus christ]]</p>
            </blockquote>





	define anxiety

**Author's Note:**

> if you're reading this i'm so so sorry.

It occurs to you at 3am, four hours after it happens, that you just had sex with your roommate, and this is something you're not too sure how to feel about.  
  
It wasn't exactly planned, alright. It just sort of happened. You were studying and he was fucking around doing something and he starting annoying slash distracting you and then  
  
....You ended up in bed together? That's hardly realistic. But you're not sure what happened in between, because it all moved very quickly and then you were too sleepy (and blissed out) to really care.  
  
So it's only now, and you've only just realized what this means, and then this is enough to wake you back up fully (at least it's Sunday) and you sit up and stare at your feet for a while, biting your lip. This calls a lot of things into question.  
  
Until the age of about sixteen or seventeen, you always assumed you were totally, completely heterosexual. You'd tried getting a girlfriend in high school, which. Went well. Eventually, you'd come to the conclusion that you were asexual and aromantic and from then on you'd given up on any romantic or sexual prospects. And when you'd gotten here, you'd been certain that that would continue. Until....until about six hours ago, you'd thought this would continue.  
  
Then you......  
  
.......fucked your roommate. (Or the other way around? You don't know. You don't remember. You don't really _care._ ) And again, that isn't exactly indicative of heterosexuality. Or asexuality. Or...well, anything you thought you were. Both your previous sexual identities did not list sex with a boy as a viable option.  
  
Look how well that went.  
  
Okay, you're panicking,. Time to calm down and focus on your breathing because you're hyperventilating, and that means too much oxygen and too many breaths (or...too little oxygen? Does it matter right now?) and you might well pass out, which would be awkward. And god, you're crying now too, there are tears leaking out no matter how much you try to stifle them, and eventually you give up and bury your face in your hands.  
  
You, sir, are a mess.  
  
It takes a while and a lot of your self indulgent self hatred...yness....before you feel someone wrapping their arms around you.  
  
Oh.  
  
"...Did I wake you up."  You manage.  
  
"Well, I probably would have woken up anyway." It feels weird when people this close to your neck are talking to you. You squirm a bit at the sudden volume. "You look sad. Did I do something bad?"  
  
You more or less manage to shake your head.  
  
"Then why are you crying? Please don't be sad." Did he just kiss your neck? He needs to stop doing that. You've resigned yourself to a proper shirt tomorrow as it is. Nothing with a low collar. Nope.  
  
You shrug because if you tell him the actual reason he'll take it personally.  
  
"Did you have another nightmare about Dick Clark?"  
  
"No." God damn, that was one time.  
  
"Was it a nightmare that wasn't about DIck Clark?"  
  
" _No_."  
  
"Then what?" Smooch, smooch. His well meaning attempts at reassurance aren't making you feel much better. Too much touching.  
  
You try to speak but you're not entirely sure you know what words to use. So the room is silent for about fourty three seconds before it's broken with a small, quiet. "poit".  
  
Why did you bang the guy with Tourette's.  
  
Eventually, after having your introspectivity broken, you decide on ".....what are we, now."  
  
He looks confused. "Erm. Well. I'm not sure what you mean. Do you mean generally? I'm pretty sure we're peo--"  
  
"We just had sex."  
  
"Well technically it was about four hou--"  
  
"I just want to know where this is going." You're in no mood for his shit today.  
  
There's an "oh" and then a "hmm" and then an awful lot of pondering and by the fifth little "narf" noise you want to hit him.  
  
"....I...sort of assumed we were boyfriends." He blinks at you, when he eventually replies. "Unless you don't want to!"  
  
You sigh.  
  
"I do, but."  
  
...  
  
"But?"  
  
You pause again to think of a good way to say it.  
  
"...I'm not into boys."  
  
Blink, blink. "Well, obviously you are."  
  
"I can't be." And the tears are coming back, because apparently sounding like low quality Japanese gay porn isn't enough.

It's a genuine concern, okay.  
  
He just sort of sits there for a moment before pulling you close properly and you struggle a bit but eventually you just sort of. Flop. "Does it matter?" He says, quietly.  
  
You give him a bewildered look. "Of course."  
  
"Well, put it this way. _Do_ you like me?"  
  
You don't want to answer that. You open your mouth to say so, but he just raises his eyebrows and eventually you mumble a "I guess."  
  
"Well, if you _want_ to date me, date me! It's not like you need to justify it to anyone, now is it."  
  
Beat.  
  
"....You did want to do that, didn't you?" He looks worried now. "Because if you said you wanted me to stop, I would! I don't wa--"  
  
"Yes." You mumble.  
  
"....Yes, what?"  
  
"...Yes, I. I didn't." How do you put this. "I didn't...not want to do...that. I just don't know what this means for my sexuality."  
  
Another pause.  
  
"How hard would it be for you to not care?"  
  
"Harder than it would be for you." You shoot back, and then you feel a bit mean. But he doesn't seem to take offense. "No, because I already have a label! But the point is you don't need one."  
  
"I--" But he cuts you off.  
  
"Just do what makes you happy. I want you to be happy.  Even if that's not me."  
  
You do not point out the double meaning of that sentence and choose instead to lay back down. Yeah, you need to wash the sheets. You try to work out a time you could get to the laundry room when nobody would be there at all. Whatsoever. You'd rather not be interrupted. Especially not by anyone you share your classes with.  
  
A pause.  
  
"So...if you ever want to do that again--"  
  
"I would prefer not to think about that right now. Can I get used to it first?"  
  
A pause. He looks like he's about to nod then all of a sudden he starts sniggering.  
  
"What."  
  
He laughs for about three more years before he speaks.  
  
"....W. What're we gonna do tonight, Brain?"  
  
....  
  
...you're going to slap him.  
  


**Author's Note:**

> that was shit lmao
> 
> pinky is pan hence the label thing


End file.
